


Mystrade. Vamplock.

by Readingfanfics



Series: Vampirelock [17]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Sex, Feeding, Human Greg Lestrade, M/M, Vampire Mycroft, greg is a bit pissed off
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:40:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29107959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Readingfanfics/pseuds/Readingfanfics
Summary: “Gregory. Please stop looking at me like that. I will be fine.”“You could have died, Mycroft. I’ll look at you however I like.”“I’m already dead, Gregory.”“Don’t be an arse.”
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Series: Vampirelock [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/750315
Comments: 2
Kudos: 48





	Mystrade. Vamplock.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by a piece of artwork by archiaart that Mottlemoth reblogged on her page. For some reason I can't go to the original link so I'm not sure if I can share the link from Mottlemoth's reblog. I don't want to do something wrong and upset the artist.   
> \-----------------------------------------------------------------

“Gregory. Please stop looking at me like that. I will be fine.” 

“You could have died, Mycroft. I’ll look at you however I like.” 

“I’m already dead, Gregory.” 

“Don’t be an arse.” Greg grumbled, punching Mycroft’s shoulder but of course, the vampire didn’t move. He probably didn’t even feel it. Greg ran a hand through his hair, sighing before he sat down in front of Mycroft. 

“Take off your shirt.” 

Mycroft raised an eyebrow but Greg refused to blush, just crossing his arms in front of him. Mycroft rolled his eyes but did as he was told and Greg bit his lip as he saw the many cutlines on Mycroft’s torso and stomach. 

“Dammit, Mycroft!” Greg got up, pointing to the bathroom door and Mycroft followed, without bored protest. Greg filled up the sink with warm water, wetting a clot as he gestured at Mycroft to sit down on the toilet. 

“You’re fussing too much, Gregory. These will all heal.”

“Sit down and shut up, Mycroft.” Greg snapped and he could practically feel Mycroft’s eyes on his back. He turned around, wet washcloth in hand. Mycroft sat down slowly, his silver eyes locked with Greg’s eyes. Greg let out a breath, getting to work to wash all the blood and dirt off of Mycroft’s body. He did his best to ignore how Mycroft’s muscles flexed and how the pattern of small freckles appeared from beneath all the filth. He cursed again when Mycroft turned to the side to show his back and he needed to turn around to rinse out the cloth. 

“Gregory.” Mycroft’s voice was soft but Greg shook his head, focusing on rinsing out the cloth, taken an absurd amount of time to do so. 

“Gregory.” Greg jumped when Mycroft’s hand landed on his shoulder and he looked up, seeing Mycroft’s reflection in the mirror. 

“You’re not a real vampire. Real vampires don’t have a reflection.” Greg said, not really knowing why. He saw Mycroft’s eyebrow go up for a second before he smiled. His hand was still on Greg’s shoulder and it was hard to focus on anything else than that. It felt good, a tad cold but not unbearable. 

“We need to clean up your back.” Greg whispered, turning around and moving so that Mycroft could stand in front of him. Mycroft hesitated, opening his mouth but then closed it again, his eyes scanning Greg’s face but not commenting on it. “It won’t take long.” Greg said, needing to fill the silence. Mycroft blinked, then moved forward so that Greg could do the rest. 

After he cleaned up the blood, Greg tossed the washcloth aside, his eyes going over all the scars on Mycroft’s back. Some were very old, barely visible, some were more recent and Greg knew some of the injuries he’d gotten today would leave new marks. All because of him. 

“This is not your fault, Gregory.” 

“Don’t read my mind, Mycroft. Not tonight.” 

“I don’t need to read your mind. It’s all over your face.” Mycroft turned around, placing both his hands on Greg’s shoulders, squeezing gently. 

“Then don’t read my face.” Greg grumbled, his eyes going down to Mycroft’s torso. It was shimmery from the water, all the cuts and bruises standing out harshly. 

“Why aren’t you healed yet?” Greg looked up, Mycroft’s eyes drifting to the right, his head slightly down. “Mycroft. Why?” Greg asked again, placing his hand on Mycroft’s arm. Mycroft sighed, taking his hands off Greg’s shoulder and looking around the bathroom. 

“Can I use a towel?” 

“Sure.” Greg took one out, handing it to Mycroft but holding on when Mycroft’s fingers grabbed it. “You’re avoiding the question.”

“I’m not avoiding the question, Gregory. I just want to be dry and clothed first.” Mycroft said, his cheeks a tad paler and Greg raised an eyebrow as he released the towel. 

“I’ll find you a new shirt to wear.” Greg stepped out before Mycroft could comment, heading to his bedroom and going through his clothes. They were roughly the same height but Mycroft was definitely thinner than him. Not to mention the man always looked right out of a magazine. Greg went through his whole wardrobe but nothing really suited Mycroft and he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He couldn’t even take care of his friend in just the basic stuff! He shouldn’t have brought Mycroft here, should have just gone to Holmes’ manor! 

Idiot!

“Gregory Lestrade, if you insult my friend one more time, you will have to answer to me.” 

Greg nearly jumped out of his skin, turning around so quickly he hit his knee against an open drawer. He cursed, clutching his knee as he half stumbled, half bounced to his bed, and sat down. 

“Fucking hell, Mycroft!” Greg yelled, not so much from the pain but the fact that Mycroft was suddenly in his room. “I told you not to mind read me!” Greg looked up, giving Mycroft a displeased look but Mycroft didn’t comment. Instead, his eyes went over the room, a sliver of a smile when he noticed all the books on and around the nightstand. His eyes went to the dresser and wardrobe, frowning when he looked back at Greg. 

“I was just- trying to find you something. Something you would like.” Greg muttered, his cheeks reddening. He rubbed his knee, not because it hurt but because he needed something to do to not look at Mycroft. The largest wounds were bandaged up but Greg’s stomach still turned. Mycroft came closer but didn’t sit down and Greg was grateful for it. 

“Anything is fine, Gregory. Please stop worrying.” 

“And how do you suggest I do that?!” Greg snapped his head up, gesturing at Mycroft but not able to look at the wounds for long. Guilt was settling inside his soul, festering there. He looked down, absently rubbing his knee as images of tonight came to mind. It had been pure chaos and Greg had never been more afraid in his life. Part of it had been for his own life but the largest part was for Mycroft and Sherlock. 

“I worry about you all the time, Mycroft. Ever since Sherlock told me about your crazy sister and the grudge she has against you. You wouldn’t have told me, would you?” Greg looked up, seeing the answer in Mycroft’s silver eyes. “You would have just gone there, alone, right into her trap.”

“Gregory.” Mycroft’s voice was hard, the hairs on the back of Greg’s neck standing up. Mycroft’s expression changed, coming closer to place a hand on Greg’s shoulder but Greg shook his head. 

“It’s fine, Mycroft.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” Mycroft said, his eyes sad as they drifted away from Greg to the window. The snow had finally stopped falling, leaving the world a beautiful white but Greg knew it was all just temporary. The world was beautiful, yes, but also dangerous and tonight had proven that once again. 

“Do you know where she is now?” Greg asked, getting up to pick up discarded clothes. He heard Mycroft sigh behind him and his heart sank, closing his eyes for a moment. It still wasn’t over and Greg suddenly felt tired to the bone. He let out a heavy sigh, rubbing his face. He jolted when Mycroft’s hand touched his arm and he turned around, a bundle of clothes in hand. 

“It’s not to your standards but it will have to do for now. You can sleep in my room.” 

“Can you please stop and look at me?” 

“No.” Greg whispered, closing his eyes when Mycroft turned him around. Tears began to form as he felt fingers run through his hair and he struggled for only a few seconds when Mycroft’s arms wrapped around him. 

“I’m constantly worried, Myc. What if- what if one of these days she wins? We barely made it out of there tonight and I-” 

“Nothing will happen to you, Gregory. I promise you-” Mycroft said in his ear, pressing him tighter against him and Greg’s body relaxed, letting himself be held. He noticed how cold Mycroft was and looked up, meeting Mycroft’s all observing gaze. 

“I’m not worried about myself.” Greg pulled back, placing his hands on Mycroft’s chest. The smallest wounds were healed now but the larger ones were still there and Greg frowned when he noticed the blood in one of the corners of the bandage. 

“Why aren’t you fully healed yet? It’s been at least two hours since we left.” Greg said, fingers reaching for the bandage but Mycroft took his hand, shaking his head. Greg frowned, trying to make eye contact. “What aren’t you telling me, Myc? Did she do something to you?” Greg asked after a too-long moment of silence. Mycroft finally looked at him, placing his other hand on Greg’s shoulder. 

“No. That’s not the reason.” 

“Are you lying to me?” Greg asked, taking a step back but Mycroft was still holding his hand. “Because I know you can influence me when you touch me.” 

“You’d feel the difference by now. I know Sherlock taught you.” Mycroft responded, letting go of Greg’s hand and Greg instantly felt colder. Mycroft took the bundle of clothes, quickly changing into them and Greg smiled when he saw the bagginess of the t-shirt and trousers. Mycroft rolled his eyes at him, giving him a nod in thanks. 

“Tell me why you’re not healed.” Greg crossed his arms when Mycroft looked up, a twitch near his right eye. They stood like that for what felt like hours, Greg lifting up his chin. Something was wrong and he was not leaving this room until he knew what. Mycroft sighed, rubbing his forehead before sitting down on the bed and speaking. 

“Fast healing only happens when I’m fully fed.” Mycroft looked down at his knees and it took a ridiculous amount of time before it clicked into Greg’s brain. 

“Oh.” Greg said, wanting to fall down the floor when Mycroft looked up at him, raising an eyebrow in a ‘really’ sort of way. Greg let out a sound, more of an embarrassed huff as he felt his face warm up. He stepped closer, sitting down next to Mycroft, breathing in deeply and holding his breath for a few seconds before releasing it again. 

“You can drink from me.” Greg kept his gaze on Mycroft, lifting up his arm and rolling up the sleeve of his shirt, exposing his wrist. “You clearly need it, and I know you would never go too far so-”

“You don’t know that, Gregory.” Mycroft cut him off, taking hold of Greg’s arm and placing it back down. His thumb rubbed over the delicate skin of his wrist and Greg’s body shivered. He couldn’t stop looking at Mycroft’s eyes, seeing how the silver changed as they sat there. 

“You’re cold, Mycroft.” Greg said after a moment, looking down at his wrist. Mycroft stopped his caresses, patting Greg’s arm once before pulling back. Greg reached out, grabbing Mycroft's arm firmly. “It’s cold because you haven’t fed, right? How long has it been?”

“Not that long, just-” 

“Don’t lie, Mycroft. Not tonight.” Greg whispered, placing his other hand on Mycroft’s face, making him meet his gaze. 

“Three days.” Mycroft said softly, his eyes drifting through the room. Greg swallowed back his curse, squeezing Mycroft’s arm instead as he breathed out deeply. 

“Then I don’t understand why we are still talking. I trust you, Myc. You know I do. I wouldn’t offer this to you if I didn’t.” Greg turned his arm up, bringing his wrist closer to Mycroft. His heart beating faster as Mycroft gently held it between his hands, his eyes a dark silver. 

“Gregory.” Mycroft looked up, longing and a hint of fear in his eyes but Greg stroked Mycroft’s cheek, nodding firmly. Mycroft watched him intensely for a few more seconds, his eyes seeming to scan every micro-expression on Greg’s face. 

“I’ll be as gentle as possible.” 

“I know. Now stop stalling.” Greg said, a smile on his face when Mycroft’s expression changed. Greg held his breath as Mycroft lowered his head. He released it when he felt a soft kiss on his wrist, Mycroft looking up at him.

“Thank you.” 

“You-you’re welcome.” Greg was a bit breathless, still feeling Mycroft’s lips on his wrist. Mycroft tightened his hold and Greg hissed when fangs pierced his skin. Tiny drops of blood pooled up from the wounds and Greg shivered when Mycroft licked them up. 

“Yes?” Mycroft asked, the sound dragged out because of his fangs. Greg blinked, taking in Mycroft's vampire face. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen it, but there was always a moment of fear before the fascination set in. The raised brows, the silver eyes that shone like stars, the white fangs catching the reflection of the night lamp. Mycroft raised an eyebrow and Greg snapped out of his thoughts, nodding his head again. The little smile Mycroft gave in return sent shivers down Greg’s spine. 

Greg could hardly think about anything as Mycroft sucked more blood to the surface, licking it up eagerly. The whole experience was strange but also thrilling and Greg couldn’t stop looking. Mycroft met his gaze from time to time, as if making sure that Greg was still okay and Greg placed his free hand on Mycroft’s knee, needing to touch him. 

His whole body felt awake, every fiber of his being vibrating as Mycroft fed on him and Greg couldn’t stop the little moans and gasps falling from his lips. Mycroft sucked harder, letting out a soft growl, and Greg bit his lip hard, feeling his cock harden. 

Oh god, no! 

“Gregory?” Mycroft stopped, looking at Greg curiously before his eyes went down. Greg struggled to free his wrist from Mycroft’s hold, mortified when he saw Mycroft’s eyebrows raise as his eyes stayed on Greg’s groin. 

“I-I don’t- I.” Fucking hell! 

Mycroft released his wrist and Greg got up, walking straight to his bedroom door and not looking behind him. His face felt as warm as an oven, his mind screaming at him for being a dumb fool. He just reached for the doorknob when Mycroft stood before him and Greg jumped back, fear and humiliation growing. At least it dampened his beginning erection. 

“Gregory-”

“Don’t.” Greg growled, turning his back to Mycroft. He closed his eyes tightly, making fists of his hands as he breathed in deeply. Why was this happening now?! Greg breathed out, his heart still racing inside his chest. He heard the softest of sounds and knew Mycroft was standing in front of him again. “Please, just- just leave it. Just let me-”

Greg was interrupted by a press of soft lips against his own and he opened his eyes in shock. He moved, placing his hands on Mycroft’s chest, squinting his eyes as he looked into Mycroft’s grey ones. The feeding had clearly helped him, the color of his eyes back to normal, the paleness gone from his cheeks. Seeing the effects of his offer did something to Greg’s mind and body. 

Mycroft’s eyes seemed to dilate more as the seconds went by, a beginning frown between his eyebrows as he watched Greg with intensity. Greg added pressure but Mycroft didn’t move back and Greg grabbed his arms more tightly. 

“Why did you do that?” 

“Because you wanted me to.” Mycroft replied, his voice perfectly even and Greg wanted to punch him in the face for it. Mycroft gave him a look and Greg rolled his eyes, letting go of Mycroft’s arm but not stepping backward. 

“As if I would ever be able to reach you.” Greg mumbled, feeling restless as Mycroft’s eyes were still on his face. Reading him like a book. 

“If you want to punch me-”

“I don’t, okay! Fucking hell, Mycroft!” Greg shouted, throwing his arms up in the air before crossing them over his chest. He didn’t hold it for long, letting out a loud and deep sigh, running a hand through his hair. He felt tired to the bone and almost stumbled to his bed. He felt Mycroft’s hands on his body, helping him sit down and he bent forward, his elbows placed on his knees to support his head. Mycroft’s hand was warm on the back of his neck, somehow grounding him as he breathed in and out slowly. He lifted up his head, looking down at his wrist and the two tiny puncture wounds. 

“Would you like a bandaid?” 

Greg just shook his head, forcing himself to meet Mycroft’s eyes. He couldn’t read his friend’s expression, couldn’t possibly tell what was going on inside that brain of his. 

“What are you thinking?” Greg asked, leaning forward as if he wanted to step inside Mycroft’s head. Mycroft licked his lips, eyes scanning Greg’s face before tentatively removing his hand and placing it on Greg’s cheek. 

“That I should have told you about the feeding. About the possible effects it could have.” 

“Maybe that would have been a good idea, yeah.” Greg whispered, his eyes feeling small and heavy. Mycroft’s hand on his face felt nice and he closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. He jolted out of his half-awake state when soft lips pressed against him, Mycroft’s nose almost touching his when he opened his eyes. 

“Mycroft, you don’t-”

“Gregory.” Mycroft replied, stroking Greg’s cheek, a small smile on his mouth as Greg blinked. 

“I don’t want you to kiss me just because you think I-” Greg turned his head away but Mycroft kept his hand on Greg’s cheek, his thumb stroking the skin. 

“I want to.” Mycroft whispered in Greg’s ear and Greg turned back, something in Mycroft’s voice setting him on edge. “I want to, but I shouldn’t.” Mycroft spoke again, pain in his eyes as he held Greg’s face with both hands, touching their noses together before Mycroft kissed him again. 

“Why not?” Greg asked, stealing another kiss, his tiredness from before changing into longing as Mycroft moved his hands, slipping his arms around Greg’s waist and pressing them together. 

“I don’t deserve you, Gregory.” Mycroft looked at him, fondness and sadness in his eyes. Greg swallowed. Seeing Mycroft this open with him, hearing the vulnerability and pain in his voice was almost too much. Greg wanted to say something, find the right words to comfort him but instead, he shook his head, placing a finger on Mycroft’s lips. After a second, Mycroft licked it and Greg’s breath caught as he pulled his finger back, his body now fully awake and aware. 

“Myc.” Greg cleared his throat, seeing the golden glow in Mycroft’s gray eyes and Greg crashed their mouths together. He explored Mycroft’s mouth, letting out a moan when their tongues found each other, clinging to Mycroft’s body as Mycroft took control of the kiss. Greg shivered when his tongue touched Mycroft’s fangs. Hearing Mycroft’s deep growl in response made Greg’s knees go weak and suddenly he was being laid down on the bed, Mycroft’s body hovering over him. 

“Gregory, I-”

“Don’t.” Greg reached for him, kissing him deeply, catching Mycroft by surprise when he pushed and turned them over. Greg smirked when he pulled back, his hands sliding down Mycroft’s naked chest, pinching a nipple before kissing it. Mycroft cursed, hands grabbing the sheets and Greg let out a delighted sound when he felt Mycroft’s cock press against his leg. 

“Stop worrying, Myc. Just- just make love to me.” Greg said, sitting on Mycroft’s lap and looking down at him. His wounds were now completely healed and Greg breathed out in relief when he didn’t see more scars. 

“Your blood healed me, Gregory.” Mycroft spoke, tenderness in his voice, something close to love in his eyes as he reached up and cupped Greg’s cheek. Mycroft smiled, honest and real and Greg leaned down to meet him, kissing him until he couldn’t breathe anymore. 

“You look gorgeous.” 

“So do you.” Mycroft replied, his cheeks a shade paler, and Greg smiled when he removed his shirt. Laughing when Mycroft’s hands instantly touched him. 

“A bit impatient, Myc?” 

“I need to explore every inch of your skin.” Mycroft replied seriously, eyes going over Greg’s chest, his fingers following and Greg shivered because of the intensity in Mycroft’s gaze. Mycroft sat up, nearly devouring Greg’s mouth with his kisses, licking Greg’s neck, and sucking a mark. There was a soft, gentle scrap of teeth next and Greg dug his nails into Mycroft’s shoulders, his cock erect and throbbing. 

“Oh, Myc. Please-”

He didn’t even know what he was pleading for, he just wanted more. Mycroft hissed, rolling them over and Greg’s wrist got caught above his head, Mycroft looking down at him. Greg pushed his hips up, gooseflesh forming as he saw the fangs and the golden glow of Mycroft’s eyes. 

“You smell amazing, Gregory. You taste-” Mycroft stopped, closing his eyes for a few moments. When he opened them the golden glow was less, his fangs not as large as before. 

“Myc, you okay?” 

Mycroft nodded, letting go of Greg’s wrist and Greg sat up, placing a hand on Mycroft’s shoulder. Mycroft gave a shaky smile and Greg placed a kiss on his temple, stroking Mycroft’s hair. 

“My apologies. It’s been some time since-” Mycroft stopped, taking Greg’s hands in his. “Did I hurt you?” 

“No, of course not.” Greg replied, letting Mycroft inspect his wrist. His friend let out a relieved sound when he didn’t see any marks and Greg smiled at him, leaning forward to rub his nose against Mycroft’s cheek. 

“Stop worrying. You won’t hurt me.” 

Mycroft gave him a disbelieving look but Greg ignored it, opting for kissing the man some more. Soon they were laying down again, Mycroft exploring Greg’s body with madding precision, doing everything he could to drive Greg crazy. Greg’s cock was throbbing with want, tiny beads of sweat were forming on his forehead and he couldn’t stop begging. Mycroft looked up, lust and hunger in his eyes, and Greg moaned loudly, opening his leg wider, showing his neck off as he ran his nails down Mycroft’s back. 

“Gregory.” 

“Myc, please, oh please, don’t stop.” Greg trashed, body so wound up he was afraid he would explode. He shouted when Mycroft finally filled him up, setting a steady pace that made his bed creak. Greg forced his eyes open, needing to see Mycroft, biting his lip hard as Mycroft’s eyes found his. He reached for Mycroft's hand, interlacing their fingers as Mycroft pounded into him. It felt like too much and not enough and Greg screamed again when Mycroft's other hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it hard. 

“Perfect- so good.” 

Greg nearly died when he heard Mycroft's lisp, his fangs large and threatening. His balls drew tight and he called out Mycroft’s name as he spilled onto his stomach. Mycroft growled, grabbing Greg by the hips, digging his nails into Greg’s arse as he fucked him harder. Greg’s skin formed goosebumps, Greg grabbing the sheets again, moaning and sobbing as Mycroft moved. Mycroft’s body pulled taut, his eyes locked with Greg’s and they both moaned when Mycroft spilled inside Greg. 

“Myc-Myc- Oh!” Greg babbled, clutching the sheets and suddenly Mycroft’s face was in front of him, his eyes full of desire that made Greg’s stomach dip. He turned his head to the side, shivering when Mycroft licked his neck and Greg hissed when Mycroft's fangs pierced the skin. 

“Oh, fuck!” Greg breathed out, pulling Mycroft’s hair, his toes curling from the pleasure/pain sensation as Mycroft sucked blood to the surface. He shivered when Mycroft licked it up, wrapping his legs around him, feeling Mycroft's cock slip out of him. 

“Gregory.” Mycroft’s voice was raw, his pupils wide, fangs sharp but Greg smiled up at him, brushing away a strand of hair on his forehead. 

“That was amazing.” Greg breathed out, reaching out to Mycroft when he moved off him. Mycroft smiled, his expression soft and open. 

“Let me clean you up.” Mycroft was in and out of the bathroom before Greg could comment, rubbing a damp cloth over Greg’s skin. It made him shiver and Mycroft’s smile grew wider, placing a kiss on his forehead before going back to the bathroom. Seconds later Mycroft was back, settling himself next to Greg, pulling up the sheets, and making sure Greg was covered up. 

Greg’s fingers traveled over Mycroft’s skin, pressing himself to Mycroft's side. Mycroft hummed as Greg placed tiny kisses on the skin he could reach, still catching his breath. Mycroft turned his head, a serious expression in his eyes as the tips of his fingers went over the delicate spot in Greg’s neck. 

“Was I too rough? How are you feeling?” 

“I feel good, Mycroft. I promise.” Greg smiled, placing a kiss on Mycroft’s nose and he grinned when he saw the funny expression on Mycroft’s face. Clearly, no one had ever kissed him on the nose before. 

“I could ask you the same thing.” Greg said, his face reddening as he remembered how he’d dug his nails into Mycroft’s back. His heart skipped a few beats when he noticed Mycroft's pupils dilate, a devilish grin on his face as he leaned closer. 

“I feel wonderful, Gregory. You are- quite responsive in bed. I enjoy it immensely.” Mycroft nibbled Greg’s earlobe and Greg’s breath caught, moving to lay on top of Mycroft and kiss him lazily. His body tingled, cock half-awake as they kissed. They smiled at each other and Greg sighed, laying his head down on Mycroft’s chest. 

“You deserve something good, Myc.” Greg said after a while, Mycroft’s fingers stopped their caresses for just a moment. Greg lifted his head up, elbows propped up on Mycroft’s chest to support his head. 

“Gregory.” Mycroft sighed, fingertips running down Greg’s flank, half distracting Greg. 

“You do.” Greg said, but Mycroft didn’t comment. They stared into each other’s eyes, Greg seeing all the love Mycroft felt for him in those grey irises. It moved something inside Greg, making it difficult to breathe. How could such an extraordinary creature love someone as plain and simple as him? 

“You’re not plain.” Mycroft spoke, shaking his head when Greg opened his mouth. Mycroft’s hand grabbed Greg’s head, bringing their lips together and Greg moaned when he felt Mycroft's cock against his leg. 

“Already?” Greg asked, surprise and delight in his eyes as Mycroft laughed out loud. 

“You could say it’s one of the perks of being a vampire. We have amazing endurance and fast recovery time.” 

“Too bad I don’t.” Greg pouted, feeling Mycroft shake underneath him with laughter. Mycroft ran his fingers through Greg’s hair, cupping his cheek and placing a peck on the corner of his mouth. 

“You should sleep, darling.”

“I-” Greg started , biting his lip, fleetingly looking at Mycroft before sliding off him and lying on his back, fingers interlaced on his stomach. 

“Gregory, what’s wrong? Should I not call you darling?” 

“No, it’s not that.” Greg sighed, turning his head to give Mycroft a glance and a smile. Mycroft frowned, placing a hand over Greg’s. 

“You can tell me anything.” 

Greg sighed deeply, licking his lips before speaking but he didn’t look at Mycroft. 

“I’m afraid that when I fall asleep, you’ll be gone when I wake up.” Greg closed his eyes, swallowing down the beginning lump in his throat. He hadn’t felt this vulnerable and weird in a long time and knowing how Mycroft could see, well, it made the situation worse. He felt Mycroft move next to him and he opened his eyes when soft lips pressed on his. 

“I’m not leaving. I promise you.” 

“Maybe not tonight, but-”

“I’m staying for as long as you want me, Gregory. Don’t you know?” Mycroft asked and Greg looked up, shaking his head like an idiot. “I have- very strong feelings for you, Gregory Lestrade. Despite my better judgment, I want to be with you every moment of every day to come.”

“You- what?” Greg snapped his mouth shut, realizing how silly he looked with his mouth open like a fish on land. He sat up in bed, Mycroft following his lead. Greg squinted his eyes and Mycroft smiled. A genuine and hopeful smile reached his eyes. Greg placed a hand in front of his mouth when realization hit him, Mycroft taking his other hand and squeezing it. 

“Do you see?” Mycroft asked, his eyes firmly on Greg’s face, showing him everything and Greg nodded, excitement bubbling up. He was 90 percent sure his mouth would rip open by how wide he was smiling. They met in the middle, kissing each other deeply and Greg shivered when Mycroft whispered in his ear. 

“I love you, Gregory.”

“I love you too, Mycroft. So much.” Greg was still smiling, placing kisses all over Mycroft’s face until he laughed. 

“This won’t be easy. There is my sister and the whole fact that I’m undead and you are human. Then there is-”

“Stop.” Greg placed a hand over Mycroft’s mouth, shaking his head when Mycroft raised an eyebrow. “Let’s just forget about all that for a few more hours, okay? Let’s just- enjoy the moment?” Greg asked, removing his hand when Mycroft nodded, a sparkle in his eyes. 

“You should sleep darling.” Mycroft mumbled when Greg yawned, guiding Greg back down in bed and wrapping himself around him. Greg let out a content sigh, his body relaxing as his eyes started to feel heavy. He whispered, just loud enough for Mycroft to hear and he felt a brush of lips on his forehead before sleep overtook him, not hearing Mycroft’s words. 

“I’m staying with you forever.”


End file.
